The Unforgiven
by paranoia'SPLASH
Summary: Bella, the orphan violinist with a strange past, and Edward, the pianist with a murky family background. Suffering in silence is best when nobody cares. AH, canon couples.
1. Prologue

The balding man hurried out of the elevator, a briefcase clutched under one fat armpit and a thick stack of printing paper under the other. Sweat stained the back of his pale pink shirt and he kept looking around.

It was really a pitiful indication of how miserable office workers were when nobody thought the man as suspicious. He hurried his middle-age bulk out of the sparkling glass doors and jumped into the first taxi he saw. The driver peered suspiciously at the sweating man in his taxi and decided he was too tired to care.

"The House, please," the man gasped, clutching his briefcase like it was the secret to life.

"Aw, man, that's way out," the driver complained, but starting the engine nonetheless. He opened his mouth to complain, but got sidetracked by the thick wad of bills the man threw over the seat with the words, 'keep the change'. The driver pocketed the cash before he could change his mind and drove off, whistling under his breath.

One hour later, the man lifted himself out of the cab and walked to the little cabin-like lodge called The House, looking much more composed though the sweat stains hadn't completely vanished. He shook a disappoving fist at the leaving taxi, blasting The Fray at top volume, and stomped up to the main building. The door opened before he could knock or let himself in.

"Welcome back, Mr Rames," the girl said warmly, not looking taken aback at all by his tall but stocky frame. He appreciated that. He smiled back at Gina, who was dressed in a pink shirt so pale it appeared white, and jeans. _Nice._

"Mr Rames," the elderly woman at the counter greeted. "Back already?"

He nodded. "Yes, I just need to have a quick peek around the files. You know, procedure and all." He punctuated the last remark with a flippant wave, and flashed his fake government card with a quick smile that said, _I'm just going with customs here so the government won't get on my fucking back for not showing you my nice card._

"Of course, come right in."

Mr Rames, as he was affectionally called when he wasn't on the job, was from Forks. He was currently residing in a cheap motel in Seattle on a shoestring budget, using the free breakfast coupons of the motel to give him nourishment. He desperately longed to return to his stately home in Forks, but until his job was done he had to make do with a measly breakfast of one runny egg and two pieces of toast.

The woman unlocked the door to the storeroom and let Mr Rames in, watching him for a moment before turning to return to her counter. He locked the door and rattled the knob to check if the lock was strong before shrugging and turning to the room.

The air stank of dust and books. Somewhere far above him a ventilator whirred. The orphanage was very well taken care of except for this little room full of papers and files neatly organized. Mr Rames strode over to one of the closets and yanked it open. A pile of papers tumbled down, cascading none too gently into him and knocking him flat onto his butt.

"Fuck the papers," he muttered angrily and pulled open multiple drawers. He finally located the drawer he wanted.

_P, Q, R...S._

He glared down at the source of all his problems. "You are so going down," he threatened the file, flipping it open.

**Swan, Isabella Marie**

**Born 13 September 1992**

**Born to Charlie and Renee Swan**

"All crap," he muttered, flipping the page, his beady eyes searching for more worthy nuggets of information on Isabella. **"**Came to orpahanage when she was sixteen, blah blah blah...aha."

He triumphantly found the little sheet of paper that he had taken four months to hunt down. He pulled out a black pen that he had stolen and forged a signature with a delicacy surprising for such a bulky man. A few more signatures and well-chosen words, and he closed the file and slipped it back into the fireproof drawer.

Mr Rames strode out of the room and out of the building, nodding curtly to the elderly receptionist who raised her eyebrow at his abrupt departure. He couldn't care less. Standing at the side of the road he pulled out his cell phone and dialed two numbers.

The first call was to a taxi company with a request for a cab to be sent to The Seattle Orphanage House pronto. The second call was to one Mr Mallory with the information that Isabella Swan was now a member of the Cullen family. 


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: **I had trouble writing this. Really. It was beyond impossible to begin the chapter. I must've deleted the whole thing two times over before settling on one.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Twilight, now or ever.

Chapter 1

Fire

_Light trickled through the dense branches above. She whirled around, hearing a silent call, and felt a pang of despair when she didn't see anyone. She stepped forward cautiously, the dead leaves rustling against her bare feet. _

_"Mum? Dad?" she called, hoping for an answer. She sped up, walking quickly until she stumbled over a fallen log. She tripped and caught herself, landing on all fours. She looked up, tears building in her eyes. _

_A tall, gnarled tree stood in the middle of a clearing, seeming out of place. The black branches curled out to her, beckoning sinisterly. Against her will she walked towards it, one hand stretched out as if to touch the blackened trunk. _

_It burst into flames. _

- - - - -

Bella shot upright in her bed, gasping for breath and sweating buckets. Her lids were open only halfway, suspended between reality and her subconscious. She lifted her hand to wipe the sweat away; she was met with a resistance. Bella looked down and saw, not without relief, her hands cuffed to the sides of the bed. She tested her legs gingerly and winced. The ropes she had used to tie herself down had burnt into her skin.

Sighing, she wriggled her hands experimentally before leaning over and untying the knots with her teeth. Soon her hands and feet were unsecured. She got up and stepped onto the cold tiled floor, padding to the showers quietly. Once there she turned on the tap and let it douse her completely, hissing when the cold water hit the rope burns.

After the shower she shook herself off and walked out, ignoring the wet footprints she left behind. She stopped at the kitchen doors, hesitating. Goosebumps prickled on the back of her neck, and ignoring the strong sense of foreboding in her stomach, and pushed open the door a crack and peered in.

A gust of hot air billowed at her.

"Rehnquist," she cursed silently, and took off down the hall, pounding on every door she saw. The first person to come out was a pretty seventeen year old on the brink of adulthood named Violet. She looked at Bella curiously, and she pointed at the kitchen, mouthing what her vocal chords refused to say.

She didn't seem to understand, though, and she walked to the kitchen, pushing open the door. Bella sighed mentally. _Will nobody learn how to lip-read? _She wondered.

Violet jumped back in horror, and sprinted down the hall, nodding at Bella. Together they pounded on doors, alerting the entire orphanage to the fire raging in the kitchen. In the space of ten short minutes peace had erupted into chaos.

Teenagers were screaming, swarming in one tidal wave towards the double doors that had the word EXIT blinking over them in neon lights. The fire had spread to consume the boys' dormitory as well, and flames were licking at the last few people at the end of the swarm. It was a pity the orphanage walls were constructed out of wood and not bricks, because it made it all too easy for the fire to char everything in its path.

Teachers were shouting at everyone, trying to organize the mayhem. She watched everyone blankly, running with the flow and trying to keep up with the frantic pace. The rush of emotions were almost too much for me to take. She felt a migraine coming on. She never did deal well with emotions.

She tried distracting herself with words. "Fire, tyre, sire, pyre, lyre, cryer. Luck, tuck, suck, fuck. Frag, lag, smeg," she thought furiously, pressing her lips together. It didn't work.

Finally everyone was gathered outside, the teachers relieved after having determined nobody was stuck in the inferno gutting the orphanage. Bella gazed at the burning building with a morbid fascination, finding solace in the crackling flames, almost as though the building burning to the ground was not her home up to five minutes ago, but a bonfire in an ordinary campsite.

Everyone around her began to babble mindlessly about living conditions now. Bella tuned out their noise, focusing on the fire. Somewhere further away sirens wailed, coming closer by the second, the wails sharp and piercing. Bella smiled as she heard the soft undertone of a woman consoling her in song. _Angel songs, baby, angel songs._

Her migraine vanished.

_- - - - - - - _

_Three days later..._

Edward

"Fuck," Edward growled, slamming his hands on the grand piano. He glared down at the sleek black surface that had been his only solace for the past twelve years when _Daddy _Carlisle started ignoring him. Now he simply felt like it was mocking him. Edward stepped away from the piano and started pacing, trying to conjure up a tune, any tune.

"Edward," Emmett said from outside. "Come out."

Edward took one last scathing glare at the piano and opened the door, wincing when he saw Emmett's latest injury-a thick, gaping wound on his elbow wrapped in thick, bloody gauze. "God, Emmett. Didn't Rosalie ban you from doing this shit?"

"What Rose doesn't know ain't gonna hurt her," Emmett replied seriously. "It'll be better in a few days."

"Few _days_? Are you mental? That's a fucking _hole _in your elbow, damn it! I know you have a huge ego, Emmett, but this is really nuts. Not even Superman recovers from this shit that quickly."

"Do you want to hear me out or not? For fuck's sake, Edward. You get hyped up for nothing."

Edward glared at his brother but stayed silent.

"Daddy C decided to foster another kid. She ain't gonna be related to us-I'm pretty sure she'll keep her last name like Rose and Jasper. She comes from that orphanage that burnt down-ya heard the news? That Seattle Orphanage-and apparently the coppers found us in her records."

Edward stayed silent before nodding. Emmett stared at his brother suspiciously before turning and leaving the room, closing the door with one last doubtful glance behind him. The moment the door clicked shut Edward whirled around and flung a pile of music theory books towards the glass window. It didn't shatter, but the books hit the floor with a satisfying crash.

He stared at the piles of scattered books, drained. He slumped against the door, burying his head in his hands. "Shit," he whispered. "If they ignored us before, what now?"


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Scroll down to the END of the page and go to the link for Bella's violin. Play it. NOW. Then when Edward starts eavesdropping go to the link for his piano, and play that. Seriously, it will make the story so much better, even if it does spoil the story a little.

**Disclaimer: **I'm going to say this for the last time (seriously), I don't own Twilight. There, now piss off and stop asking why there aren't any disclaimers for the rest of the story.

Bella

Bella shifted her weight, trying to find a comfortable position on the hard seats. The social worker smiled warmly at Bella, taking in her limp hair and lifeless eyes. "Nervous?" she asked kindly.

Bella shook her head. She wasn't nervous, just antsy. Bella didn't experience emotions associated with changes of situations. Happy, sad, angry-she didn't feel them. She tried, but emotion was just impossible to come to her. She didn't understand why people valued emotion so much anyway. It was overrated. Emotion caused blood feuds to go on for generations. Emotion also caused ridiculous heartbreak. Without emotion everyone would be so much better off.

The social worker sighed. "I'm Madeleine, Bella," she said. "I'm going to be monitoring your situation."

Bella nodded and looked out the window, clutching her black bag to her chest. She traced the white flower pattern on it absently, an action the social worker did not miss. The car shuddered to a stop and the driver tapped the dashboard abruptly, glaring back at them. Madeleine glared right back at him and helped Bella out.

Bella visibly cringed away from the contact and stepped away, picking up her black violin case instead and slowly walking to the large white house, staring straight ahead. Madeleine frowned and followed her, holding the duffel bags carefully. The door swung open before they knocked, and Bella recoiled as the caramel-haired woman flew at her.

"I'm so glad you're here! We've been waiting for so long, dear. Come on in, I'll show you to your room. Oh, of course, come in, come in, make yourself comfortable," she added to Madeleine, who was forcing a strained smile. "Oh, where are my manners? I'm Esme, honey. Come on, there's no need to be shy."

Bella blinked as the endearing terms fell from her mouth, and nodded slowly, taking in the spaciousness of the house, so unlike the orphanage. Esme Cullen directed her to her new room, assuring her it was almost impossible to get lost in the house after a while and she simply had to "go to the second door on the third floor".

She made her way upstairs, aware of the two women scrutinizing her every move. The moment Bella stepped onto the mid-floor landing between the first and second floor she heard the women break into hushed whispers. Bella bit her lip and slowly lugged her luggage upstairs.

On the second floor a door opened and a gorgeous blonde looked out. Bella chanced a tiny smile. The blonde frowned and glared at her before shutting the door. She was now rechristened Hostile Blonde.

The third floor only had two doors. One was shut and made of dark wood with a handwritten note pasted on it: KEEP OUT. The second door was a black rosewood that reminded Bella of electric guitars. She opened the door and stepped inside.

The room was elegantly furnished in simple black and white. The bed was black metal, with white sheets. A stereo sat on a wooden sidetable and Bella strode over to it, removing her dirty Converses so she wouldn't scuff the carpeting. She switched it on and played the first track-Enya started playing softly in the background.

The room was perfect. Bella smiled and took out her violin. She sat on the bed and started playing.

Edward

Edward hissed under his breath, withdrawing his finger from beneath the hood of his Volvo and looking at the tiny cut that had appeared on his finger. It was oozing a lot of blood for such a tiny wound. He stuck it in his mouth, sucked it, and pulled it out before staring incredulously at the drop of blood it was still oozing.

Cars were never his forte anyway. He should really leave this shit to Rosalie.

He slammed the hood down-well, as much as it was possible to slam his car hood anyway. He stomped out of the garage and into the living room, still watching blood drip from the practically invisible cut. He looked up when he heard soft mutterings that stopped with his entrance.

Esme was sitting on the couch, legs crossed and one hand frozen midgesture. A strange woman was sitting opposite Esme. Both of them swiveled their heads to stare at Edward in surprise. He froze, looking around before rolling his eyes and walking to his room, mumbling, "Jesus fucking Christ, it's my house too," under his breath.

He jogged up the stairs, making his way to his room. Oprhan Girl was probably here by now. He grimaced. Fucking orphan. As though they didn't have enough in their pathetic excuse for a family already.

He stopped in his tracks, his mind suddenly whirling. Rosalie and Emmett monopolized the two second floor bedrooms, Alice and Jasper had the two fourth floor ones, and Esme and Carlisle shared the master bedroom on the first floor, which meant...

Fuck. Edward was going to have to share the floor with Orphan Girl.

"God," he muttered. "Damn life just keeps getting better."

He pushed open his door, glaring resentfully at the shut door behind. He sat at his piano and continued glaring, only now the hostility was aimed at the piano.

"Come on," he grunted, placing his fingers of the keys. "_Play_!"

Edward straightened up and gently played a note. Then two. Then three. He began humming along to the tune, his feet moving rhythemically on the pedals. The music reminded him of the wind through the forest, whistling softly, before becoming darkness and storm-then what?

"Fucking _shit_!"

Edward pushed back the bench, scraping it violently against the carpet and stood up furiously. This was it. He had lost his muse. He couldn't play anymore. All those years of fuckery had got to him.

He walked outside, shoulders slumped and eyes downcast. He turned towards the staircase before hearing something strange-not odd, just strange. He paused in his self-pitying mood, turning. The sound was coming from Orphan Girl's room. He hesitated-did he really want to eavesdrop on Orphan Girl?-before deciding and walking towards her room. To hell with courtesy shit, it was his fucking home too. He could do whatever he wanted.

He heard a soft scraping and a sneeze. Edward rolled his eyes and turned to leave, mumbling, "I came for this shit?"

Shaking his head he took a step away before hearing that again. _That_ was soft, melodial music, exactly the kind he was missing in his music. It had that special touch that made it...music. Edward took one step closer, pressing his ear to the doorcrack where the violin floated to him easily.

It was sad, haunting and heartbreaking rolled into one violin solo that slapped him in the face. Minutes passed before Edward hastily stepped away from the door when the music stopped, suddenly aware of how long he had been eavesdropping on Orphan Girl. He rushed into his bedroom and slammed the door, breathing heavily as though he had just run a marathon.

His eyes strayed to the piano and he bit his lip, his mind immediately flashing to the haunting tune Orphan Girl had played on her violin. He slowly walked over to the piano and slid onto the bench, staring at the black and white keys.

He hadn't managed to compose a single thing for the past three months. What made him think he could start now?

"Sad," Edward said thoughtfully. The sadness of the violin had set off something in him that made him curiously happy.

He put his fingers to the piano and begun to play.

**A/N: **So here are the links to Bella's violin: (www)(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=-EQ6eHeBrhM and Edward's piano: (www)(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=g0SUG6Fv15Y&feature=related. NOW GO READ.

**A/N (2)**: I don't know about you, but if all goes right Edward should start playing the piano when he starts looking at the piano and biting his lip (aww). The piano takes about 18 seconds to begin in the video. A little fun tip to do is to play both violin and piano videos at the same time, clicking play for the violin first. It sounds freakishly cool because if you imagine standing outside both Edward and Bella's doors that's what you're hearing. Also, you'll have to tune out the guy singing, because Edward does not sing in this story. At all.

I love YouTube. All hail the glory of YouTube. Seriously.


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Updates! I love me some depression.

Playlist: www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=PYeky2PZfgg

Bella

Bella slowly padded down the stairs, peering at the immaculate white walls curiously. It was a good thing the house was perfectly clean. Dust would be afraid to enter. Bella didn't have mysophobia, but she was a clean freak. She looked around the corner, recognizing breakfast sounds.

She hesitated. Bella had no idea how to act in a typical family situation. She never had a typical family before. She had no clue of how family manners went. At the orphanage she took her meals and left to eat in her bedroom. She had no idea of the dos and don'ts. Bella sighed and walked around the corner.

Esme Cullen was flipping eggs on a pan, singing along to Kelly Clarkson on the radio. A blond man was reading a paper while leaning against a counter, chewing on toast absently. A huge bulky boy-man was scarfing down scrambled eggs and bacon with steam still swirling on it. A dainty fairy-like girl was watching the boy-man in disgust as a lanky blonde hugged her waist while eating toast smothered in syrup.

Bella stopped at the doorway, hovering as everyone turned to look at her. She suddenly realized she had no clue who anyone else was. She sucked a breath in, feeling suddenly self-conscious in her oversized shirt and knee-length shorts.

"Bella!" Esme said cheerfully, breaking the awkward silence. "You're up early."

She blinked, her eyes immediately going to the blue clock hanging next to the refridgerator. Was seven considered early? Bella usually got up at five or six. The exhaustion of yesterday had tired her out.

"I don't supposed you know the rest of us, do you?" Esme asked brightly. "This is Carlisle, my husband," she said, pointing to the man, who looked up and smiled briefly before returning to his papers. "Jasper, Alice, and Emmett," she continued, pointing to the blond, the fairy and the boy/man. "Edward and Rosalie are still upstairs. I expect they'll be down soon."

As if on cue the door opened and a blonde walked in. Bella recognized her as the hostile girl from yesterday, and quickly averted her eyes. Esme smiled happily. "Oh, that's Rose."

"Rosalie," the blonde snapped, kissing Emmett on the cheek and sitting next to him in the retro diner-like booth. Esme ignored her general bitchiness and kept flipping eggs. Bella hovered at the door for a moment, wondering where she should go now. Esme noticed her discomfort and pointed at a white table with chequered placemats. Bella slid in gratefully.

She watched the family for a while. It didn't escape her notice that none of the kids spoke to Carlisle or Esme, or that they refused to say anything other than a reluctant thanks for their food. There was a tension in the air, so thick it could be cut with a _fork. _Bella flinched as Rosalie turned an evil eye to Esme, muttering something as she took her breakfast and dug in.

"Holy Day O'Connor, these people are worse than the orphanage," Bella mumbled quietly it was silent to her own ears. She smiled suddenly, realizing what she had said. Some people at the orphanage were really twisted.

"Here you go, dear," Esme said, slipping a plate of steaming hot food onto the table. Bella heard Rosalie and Alice snort quietly and she nodded a thanks to Esme, forking into the eggs hungrily while watching the group huddled together.

Some family this was, Bella thought absently. They were as close as a bunch of mountain lions.

The door swung open again, and a boy walked in briskly. Bella turned slightly. "Bella, this is Edward," Esme said. Bella looked at the bronze-haired, green-eyed boy that had walked in. _Edward _turned and stared at her before composing his face into a hostile glare.

"Orphan Girl," Edward sneered. The other four tittered, not even bothering to hide their smirks. Carlisle Cullen didn't even turn, instead continuing to eat and read. Bella watched them in vague interest. The father didn't even seem concerned at all. "Orphan Girl, you're in my seat."

"Edward," Esme said. "There are two chairs there. Take the other one."

Edward ignored his mother, dragging out the other chair noisily, keeping his glare trained on Bella. Bella met his glare coolly. She had no idea how she was supposed to react. Hostility didn't affect her at all. After a while Edward dropped his glare and instead observed Bella clinically. Bella wondered why he was named Edward. He didn't seem a gentleman at all. But then again, Bella was apparently beautiful in Italian, and she was anything but.

"So, Orphan Girl," Edward began, a sneer pulling at his lips. "I suppose you're enjoying being here, aren't you? Feeding off Daddy C's cash like a money-hungry cow."

"There's no point talking to her, Edward," Rosalie called cruelly. "She can't talk, can you, poor girl?"

Snickers sounded from the table. Bella looked at Rosalie calmly and shrugged her shoulders. She decided not to point out that she _could _talk but just preferred not to.

"But then again," Edward continued thoughtfully. "I don't really mind you feeding off Daddy C's cash." He grinned and leaned in. "All of us love spending his money," he added in a stage whisper. Carlisle looked up at Edward before throwing down his paper, kissing Esme dryly on the cheek and striding out of the room.

"See, that's the big C in his bitchplosion goodness," Edward said, still in the whisper. "It's so fun seeing Daddy C acting like a spoiled bitch. But you'd know all about that wouldn't you?" He leaned in even closer. "How was your violin playing last night?"

Bella snapped her eyes up to meet his smirking stare. Before she knew it she had pushed her chair up and slapped him right across the face. Edward leaned back smiling, finally having provoked a reaction from her. Bella briefly considered snarling at him, but then they would all know she wasn't mute. Instead she settled for a furious glare and stormed out and to the guest room-her room.

She flung herself onto her bed, rolling onto her back and staring at the off-white ceiling. She felt like crying, but blinked fiercely to keep them in. She hadn't cried for almost seven years. She wasn't going to break the tradition now. Bella looked sideways instead, at her violin propped up against the wall.

She had no idea why such a simple comment had caused her to blow. But fuck her if she was going to let someone talk about her and her violin so conscendingly. Edward Cullen had no idea what he was talking about. If he thought he had problems, he should learn about hers.

Her violin was important to Bella. She had wanted to keep it a secret, but apparently there were no secrets in this house, she thought angrily. The Cullens probably snuck around listening at doors at night.

Bella sighed and rolled around, feeling her breakfast bubbling in her stomach. She pulled her pillow to her face, blinking in quick succession.

She stayed that way for three hours before drifting into sleep.

Edward

Edward immediately felt guilty.

It was ridiculous, and he had no reason to feel guilty, but all the same he couldn't help but feel the tiny prick of regret in his stomach. It was probably fueled by that fact that he had deliberately brought up the violin. How was he supposed to know it was a sensitive point? But then again, Edward was a pianist himself. He knew how touchy the subject was, especially if he was going through a musical drought.

After _Bella _had fled from the kitchen everything had turned silent. Only Rosalie seemed slightly appeased, but the girl was sadistic. Even Alice seemed uncomfortable.

"She's such a freak," Rosalie commented, checking her reflection on the back of a spoon. Jasper threw her a disgusted glance.

"I think we went too far," Jasper mumbled. Alice bit her lip and Jasper patted her waist comfortingly. Rosalie stared at them unbelievingly. Edward rolled his eyes at the quarrel threatenning to erupt and concentrated on his food.

If Orphan Girl was so unimportant to him, he shouldn't be thinking of her as a human. She was just another pawn in the game, one that was disposable at that. Edward chanced a flickering glance at Esme, pottering around the kitchen as though everything was so fucking homely. Edward bit back a scream, stuffing his mouth instead with eggs and crispy bacon.

He heard soft mumbling break out at the other table, and he briefly resented that he was always excluded from their little renegade gang. He constantly felt like he was deliberately excluded, like an outsider. He got the feeling they thought him as an anomaly, the prodigy among the group of weirdos. It was frustrating beyond belief.

He touched his cheek lightly, where he felt the sting of the slap echo like a distant scream. Maybe Orphan Girl was just as lonely as he was.

Shoving the last forkful of food into his mouth he strode over and dumped the plate in the sink, watching the oil slither down the plate in twisted fascination before turning and walking out, ignoring the hot gazes of his siblings. He went to his room immediately-it really was the only place he could go.

He hesitated at the door, glancing at the door beckoning to him. He wanted to hear her music again, but spying on her twice just felt like a violation of privacy. It wasn't right, and from her reaction earlier, if he wanted to live he wouldn't spy again.

Still, despite all the very valid arguments, Edward felt himself walk nearer and nearer to the door.

Well, Emmett and Jasper watched pornography. They were always trying to coerce Edward into it. He decided to consider Orphan Girl's fucktastic music be his porn.

There was, sadly, no music. He heard instead a soft humming. He peered into the crack between the door and the frame, watching Orphan Girl sleep. Her chest rised and fell steadily, and Edward looked at the black violin case sitting next to her. He sighed, crouching and leaning against the door, listening to the soft breathing that filtered through the paper-thin walls.

He listened to Orphan Girl sleep for three hours.

He went to his room and sat at his piano for two.

**A/N: **Boo, I suck at updating. Ugh. On the brighter side, I'm halfway through...six different stories now, of which only 2 are actually published.


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Hey guys. I know it's been a long pause, but...actually, I don't have a real excuse. So never mind. There's no playlist for this one, because nobody is playing anything. However, if you want you can listen to Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven on YouTube once you get to the second part. ;)

x.x.x

Bella

She woke up late, around dinner time, feeling disoriented. The walls of the room swirled slightly around her as she staggered up and sat on the edge of the bed, holding one hand at her temple, the other clutching the bed tightly. Her dream had left her feeling dizzy. She didn't even know why-it was just bright flashes of colour and emotion. Maybe that was why she had a headache now.

Bella exhaled and stood up carefully, stumbling a little when she swayed on her feet. The door opened then, and _Edward _walked in, stopping when he saw her holding onto the bed tightly. He frowned and reached out, holding her wrist. She yanked it away, scowling. He insulted her and thought he could waltz in now and pretend to help her?

He hissed a little. "Look, I'm trying to help, okay?" he snapped. She glared at him before walking out, deliberately turning her back on him. Asshole. He could go jump off a cliff as far as she was concerned.

She walked down the stairs cautiously, wondering if there would be a repeat of the morning's episode. She let out a sigh of relief when she found nobody downstairs.

"They're at school," he said from behind her. "And you will be too, tomorrow."

She frowned. School. She hadn't been to school in slightly over seven years. Going back to school now would feel strange. She turned and stared out the large glass window before turning again and examining the house, determinedly avoiding _his _steady gaze. She felt as though he was disconstructing her, breaking down into bite-sized pieces. She felt tempted to snap at him, but emotions were to be avoided. It would mean she had lost.

She briefly wondered why he wasn't as school. If it was a Monday, shouldn't he be at school to?

"I don't like going to school on Mondays," he said, as though reading her mind. Maybe he could. "School shouldn't open on Mondays."

She considered asking him to elaborate, but decided against it. She did, however, wonder why the parents hadn't insisted on his attendance. Surely his truancy would land him in trouble-why weren't the truant officers after him? They should be bailing for his blood by now, considering the lack of activity in Forks. It wasn't as though they had better things to do.

She felt a long, pregnant pause before sensing Edward leaving, his soft footsteps shuffling up the stairs quickly. Heaving a sigh of relief she turned to explore the room, enjoying the privacy she had been robbed of since moving in with the Cullens. She hesitated before stepping towards the row of cabinets, ignoring the various pictures hanging on the walls.

Quietly she opened the cabinet doors, wincing when a rusty hinge squeaked. She almost smiled-_almost_-when she discovered a set of guitars, microphones and a drum set arranged haphazardly in the dark confines. It was the only personal thing she found in the cupboards.

Bella strode over to the walls, examining the framed photos with a slight frown. They were all clever, artistic black-and-white shots of nature. She gently traced the frame of one photo in particular. It was a gorgeous photograph of a cliff captured in perfect detail. She could even see the rocky edges clearly.

The black and whites were beautiful, and it reflected the Cullens and their lives perfectly.

"Enjoy the view?"

His voice sounded unexpectedly from behind her, and she whirled around, feeling ridiculously guilty. She scrutinized his face, wondering what had made him the bitter person he was. What had made the entire family bitter.

He ignored her scrutiny and walked over to a side table, picking up a letter and retreating to his room without another word. She paused before moving over quickly to a drawer she hadn't noticed earlier. She jiggled it slightly before it opened, and she picked up a photograph. This was the one she was looking for.

It was the Cullen family portrait.

**

Carlisle Cullen sighed, loosening his silk tie slightly and frowning at the stack of papers balanced precariously on the edge of his desk. It looked horribly out of place in his neat office, but until he managed to read through each of the documents, they would have to stay. He sighed again and cast a longing glance at the medical journals sitting on a shelf before turning his attention to the pile of papers sorted into 'Read' and 'Unread' stacks. Naturally the 'Read' pile was considerably larger.

"Doctor Cullen?"

The new nurse opened the door slightly and peeked in, her peaches-and-cream complexion flushing for absolutely no reason at all. Carlisle inhaled and plastered a smile on his face, hoping it looked at least a little sincere. Usually smiles came naturally to him-compassion was so deeply ingrained into him-but today wasn't usual.

"Yes, Lilly?"

"It's time for your shift, Doctor Cullen," Lilly said meekly. Carlisle forced a strained smile to acknowledge her as she retreated from his office. He stretched and yawned, wishing desperately that he had chosen another career as he walked off for his rounds.

He entered the room breezily, noting the man who sat in the white recliner's bloody appearance. He picked up the chart and flipped through it without a word. He wasn't in the mood for trivial chitchat.

"James Trevone," Carlisle read. Carlisle looked up to inspect the man cautiously. James Trevone stared at Carlisle curiously, wiping away a little of the dried blood coating his face.

"That's my name," James answered. Carlisle walked over to examine the cause of the numerous bloodstains.

"What happened?"

James laughed loudly. "Some stupid fella at the bar decided it would be interesting to get into a drunk bar fight. I was the target."

Somehow Carlisle doubted it was the 'stupid fella' who was the agressor, but he kept silent, gently prodding a nasty gash along his arm. "Why wasn't the police called?"

James smiled coldly. "Fucker decided not to press charges after I broke his arm. I guess that's one ass who won't be drinking for a while, eh?"

Carlisle smiled politely. He wasn't concerned about bar brawls. "Well, Mr Trevone, it looks like you're going to need stitches. There aren't many injuries; however, those that you have sustained are serious. I hope you aren't afraid of needles?"

He was answered with a loud snort that he took to be a no. He turned and busied himself with assembling the proper equipment. From behind him James spoke. "You married, Doc?"

Carlisle wasn't in a mood to engage in small talk, but he answered nevertheless. "Yes," he answered, thinking back to five, six years ago wistfully. He retrieved the threads and turned to James.

"Any kiddos? 'Cause you seem kinda young to have little tykes running around the house. You're what, twenty? Twenty-five?"

"Thirty one," Carlisle corrected absently, stitching up a particularly nasty gash on James' forearm. "And yes, I have five-no, six-children." _Had, _Carlisle added silently.

"You seem rather indecisive in the amount of kids you have, Doc."

Carlisle smiled, the first geniune smile since the episode at breakfast. "Yes, I suppose I do, don't I? Me and my wife took another child into our home, you see. I'm still trying to get used to it."

James grinned. "Ah, a houseful of angst, I see. Who's the new kid?"

Absently Carlisle realized James appeared too eager to get to know him, but he was probably overreacting. After all, the dysfunctional Cullen family was a hot topic of gossip in the quiet town of Forks. "Isabella Swan. We're fostering her temporarily. The orphanage she was housed in was burnt to the ground, you see."

Was it him, or had James' eyes widened slightly at that piece of information? Carlisle shook his head a fraction of an inch. His imagination was going wild. He smoothly tied up the thread and stepped back to survey his work, each cut neatly stitched up. "All done, Mr Trevone," Carlisle said, looking at his patient, who appeared to be in deep thought.

Carlisle shook his head and turned to clean up his equipment before catching a sight of himself in the mirror opposite. He drew in a rough breath. The man in the mirror appeared horribly strange to him. His once thick gold hair was now visibly thinner and streaked with silvery gray. His already prominent cheekbones jutted out at an unnatural angle. Carlisle swallowed, shaken. He felt like the bubble around him had snapped. His little, calm world had ended with one look into a mirror. This was why Carlisle had avoided mirrors like the plague since the..._incident._

"Doc? Am I free to go now?"

James' voice snapped Carlisle out of his masochistic remniscence. He sighed and nodded his consent without turning, hearing James exit with eerily quiet footsteps.

Carlisle wiped his hands with a cloth before exiting the room. He went to the pretty girl manning the desk and told her he wasn't feeling well and took a sick day. He then entered his Mercedes and drove, but not home.

He drove to a small meadow in the middle of nowhere.

Carlisle Cullen hadn't taken a day off from work in seven years.

**A/N:** Oops. I guess I left a sort-of cliffie there. Oh well. You know the drill!


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: **I am such an idiot. -facepalm- I only just realized that people left reviews with links to fucktastic videos. I apologize for being Faily McFailstein. Hence, here is the link to be used **only **at the second part. I couldn't find any to fit the first half. And to JayLynn-wrtngdncr (I hope I spelled that right), thanks for the suggestions. I love them and I know Bond is definitely going to be used.

Http:// www . youtube . com / watch ? v = nn0RSAc9MF8&feature = related

Bella sighed as she paused to check herself in the mirror. It was Tuesday, and despite her attempted, albeit silent, protests, she was going to school along with Emmett, Rosalie, Alice, Jasper and Edward. _Oh, joy._

Esme seemed the only fairly polite person in the family. Even the good doctor hadn't spoken more than five words to her. She dreaded actually going to school with them. Bella bit her lip and tugged at the hem of her electric blue sweater.

Despite popular misconceptions, Bella wasn't one of those gothic, black-loving girls. She liked colour as much as the next person. She simply tended to turn to darker colours because she prefered to blend in. Esme had picked out her clothes, though, and she was determined to be nice to Esme until Madeleine found a permanent foster home for her.

"Bella," Esme called as she went down the staircase. "You should bring your violin. They're looking for people to play in the annual concert."

How the fuck had _she _known Bella played? She didn't want to contradict Esme by telling her she didn't play in public, so she simply gritted her teeth and retraced her steps up, grabbing her black violin case and rushing down.

_Bella didn't like to be ordered around._

She exhaled as she burst outside, halting abruptly when she realized she had no way to get to school. She fidgeted for a moment before noticing the Volvo...

...and Edward's head sticking out of it.

She huffed softly as he beckoned to her like a dog. She had no choice but to go to him, though, as he clearly knew. He looked up at her. "Get in," he said roughly.

_Orders again._

Bella curled her toes in her sneakers, trembling slightly but not moving otherwise. She noticed Alice riding shotgun, so she climbed into the backseat, keeping her cool as Alice made some nasty comment about her _lack of grace. _

She could remain emotionless as long as nobody ordered her around.

"Keep that thing off my seats," Edward said sharply. It took Bella a moment to realize he was speaking to Alice, and sagged in relief that she wouldn't have to balance her violin case on the ground.

Bella turned to watch the scenery flash past.

_First day of school, here I come._

~X~

_"Jacob..."_

_Bella blinked, her eyelids fluttering. Had she imagined the sound? She got up and slowly walked out and into the hallway, stopping when she reached the staircase. _

_"Yes...Jacob..."_

_Was that her mother? Who was Jacob? What was Renee doing with Jacob?_

_Bella shifted her weight from toe to toe, wondering if she should go and check but positive she wouldn't like whatever she saw. Charlie was working late tonight; otherwise Bella would have turned to him for help. As it was, Charlie _wasn't _home, so she warily stuck her head around the corner. _

_"Jacob...you have to...ugh...leave..."_

_"No..." Bella whispered, her eyes wide as she hastily retreated to her room. This couldn't be happening. She would wake up and everything would be alright. This must be a dream. It had to be. Bella threw herself onto the bed and sobbed, rubbing her eyes harshly. _

_What has been seen cannot be unseen. _

_And now Bella had to live with what had been printed into her mind forever._


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Thank Freya (Oxygen(dot)and(dot)Cucumber) and Brittany (Zombie's Run This Town) for this update. I wrote it in two days thanks to them. The song begins at 'Fuck Miss Brittany Block'.

**www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=2S3WtJYgy1Q**

The Cullens didn't bother helping Bella adjust to her new school.

She rolled her eyes bitterly and walked into the school alone, clutching her violin case tightly as though it was a life preserver. She ducked into the building, immediately wishing she hadn't worn such a striking colour as all attention turned to her, the _new kid._ Bella bit her lip and walked to the reception counter, keeping her eyes focused on the ground as she walked.

Bella looked at the receptionist expectantly. It took the middle-aged woman a few minutes to finish adjusting the tight bun she had tied her salt and pepper hair in, and another few minutes to complete scribbling on the notebook in front of her. Bella exhaled sharply, looking at the sign that read 'Mrs Cope' in small bold letters.

"Isabella Swan," she finally said, brusquely spitting out the name. She picked up a stack of papers and roughly shoved it at Bella, who scrambled to catch the papers. "Get your teachers to sign the slip at the end of each class, and return it here once you're done. If you need any help ask any one of the Cullens."

_Mrs Cope _turned back to scribbling on the notebook, a clear sign of dismissal. Bella retreated hastily, stopping when she was out of the little room and adjusting the papers neatly under her arm. So much for small-town residents and their alleged warmth. So far the only kind person to Bella since she had arrived in Forks was Esme Cullen. Everyone else had simply dismissed her.

Like that was a surprise, Bella thought, scoffing at herself mentally. Of course everyone had dismissed her; she was only Isabella Swan, after all. Nobody ever took a moment to really look at Bella. Even her mother-

Bella shook her head violently. She refused to think of her mother. The bad memories were unwanted and unnecessary. Bella stopped in front of her classroom door and inhaled, gathering her courage to enter.

_It'll be okay. It always is._

- - - - - - -

Lunch came around too soon.

Bella was in mostly Advanced Placement classes, and for the most part she enjoyed them. It was certainly a better option than having free periods. Bella only had one free period in her schedule, and she liked that arrangement. It gave her just enough time to practice her violin. Before she knew it, though, it was lunchtime, and Bella had no idea what she was going to do. She definitely knew she wasn't going into the cafeteria.

Gossip was already spreading about the _new girl_, and most of it seemed to be centered around the fact that Bella was living with Edward Cullen. Apparently Edward was _the one _for over half the female student population. Bella silently scoffed at them-if only they knew what a prick Edward Cullen was.

As Bella walked slowly to an as yet unknown destination, she overheard pieces of conversation from the surrounding students. She didn't particularly enjoy eavesdropping, but Bella decided it was for a good cause. After all, if rumours were being circulated about Bella, she had a right to at least know of them.

_"Living with the Cullens..."_

Old news.

_"Did you hear about the new music teacher? Apparently she..."_

Irrelevant, although Bella was curious about what the new teacher had allegedly done.

_"She doesn't talk, I hear..."_

Ah, something interesting. Bella slowed her steps, morbidly curious. She chanced a glance at the two girls whispering next to the girls' washrooms, not-so-subtly glancing at Bella every now and then. One was a short brunette dressed in a typical schoolgirl uniform, complete with thigh-high socks; the other was a tall, leggy girl with silver-blonde hair cascading down to her waist. Both were dressed sluttily, and Bella snickered silently at that.

"The teacher didn't even ask her to introduce herself," the brunette whispered. "And you know how teachers usually ask new students to introduce themselves."

Bella had been wondering about that, too. Clearly Madeleine had informed the school that Bella was mute. Bella frowned to think Madeleine had known Bella would be attending school but hadn't bothered to inform her.

"Yeah," the blonde muttered. "I heard a few of the teachers talking about it just now. Relective mutism or something."

Bella repressed the urge to roll her eyes. _Selective mutism._ Was it that hard to comprehend? Bella briefly wondered if 'relective' was even a word. And besides, she had been diagnosed with _progressive mutism_ after she refused to talk to anybody.

She decided she didn't want to hear anymore of their gossiping, and she quickened her stride, turning the corner. She sagged in relief when she noticed this particular hallway was quieter. Bella slowly walked down the hallway before finding a door at the end. The blinking sign ahead of it said 'Library'.

Bella smiled.

- - - - - -

Fuck Miss Brittany Block and her recitals. Fuck Esme, for wanting her to play. Fuck the school, for hiring the damn teacher in the first place. And most of all, fuck Bella, for even playing the violin.

Bella stood at the side of the auditorium, hugging her violin case to her chest as Miss _Block _divvyed up the students. Bella was shuffled over to the right side along with the other students who were auditioning for the recital. She considered shoving the violin case at a fellow student and dashing off to the left with students volunteering to be backstage crew, but Bella had an unexplainable urge to please Esme. Bella bit her lower lip and retreated further into the corner, wishing desperately she could phase into the wall and appear on the other side.

Perhaps she wouldn't be picked. That was her only hope for now.

"Swan, Isabella?" Miss Block called in her clear, high-pitched voice.

Bella curled her toes, feeling the tension slowly dissipate into a tight ball of nerves in her stomach as she slowly walked up to Miss Block. The teacher gave her a friendly smile.

"Violin, yes?" she asked. _Obviously. _"You'll be playing a duet with Angela Weber. Angela?"

Bella exhaled a ragged breath, feeling cold sweat break out across her arms and behind her neck. A girl came up to Bella, holding an almost identical violin case. She held out her hand. "Angela Weber."

Bella slowly reached out to grasp her hand and shake it. Angela didn't seem bothered by Bella's lack of speech, and for that Bella respected her. She stepped back, taking a moment to scrutinize her. Angela seemed nice enough, albeit a little eccentric with her funky glasses and wispy brown hair tied up into bohemian braids.

"Alright. Bella, why don't you start off first. Angela, you join in afterwards." Miss Block seemed too enthusiastic to be sane. Bella gritted her teeth and took out her violin. She closed her eyes, tuning out the quiet buzz of conversation and focusing only on the music, and thought back to the tune that had been floating around in her head for days.

Bella put the bow to the violin and began to play.

Slowly the world around her began to vanish, and Bella was in her own little bubble where only her and her music existed. She vaguely heard another student pick up a microphone and begin to rap into it, but she kept her eyes firmly shut and focused only on one word: _sorrow. _

Sorrow was deep. Sorrow was far deeper than grief. Grief was sadness at something lost; sorrow was sadness at something never known. Bella had never known her mother, and now she never would. That was sorrow. Sorrow was losing something that had never been yours in the first place. It was unexplainable, and in great quantities it could kill. Sorrow was why people committed suicide. It was why people felt the need to mutilate themselves with razorblades. It wasn't angst, and it wasn't grief like what many people assumed.

_Sorrow. _A beautiful word, Bella thought. Meaning so many things and yet so little at the same time. It was a primal emotion, ranking right up there along with anger and hate.

Another violin joined in the tune, and Bella snapped open her eyes. She saw Angela, her eyes wide open behind the lime green frames of her glasses. Angela smiled at Bella, her violin playing a completely different tune. Bella tentatively smiled back as they played.

Angela played a high tune, elegant but optimistic. Bella played a tune soft and sad, and together they formed a melody that was both broken and hopeful, Angela lifting Bella up in euphoria while Bella dragged Angela down in sorrow and anger. Bella shut her eyes again, swaying to the music with Angela.

The music raised in a crescendo, and shortly after the music faded. Bella kept her eyes shut for a few more moments, sweaty and exhausted, before opening them slowly, frightened of the reaction.

She certainly wasn't expecting applause.

Bella and Angela shared glances before bowing simultaneously, Bella smiling at Miss Block's beaming face.

Perhaps this arrangement would work out perfectly fine.

- - - - - -

Bella went home with Edward. They were hostile to her on the ride home, especially more than usual. Alice kept throwing her furtive glares, but at least Alice attempted to be secretive about it. Rosalie openly glowered at Bella the whole way back to the house. Emmett and Jasper were quiet for the most part, but Bella simply received an unwelcome vibe off them.

And Edward...Edward was Edward. An arrogant, nosy jerk. Bella swallowed back sudden tears, furious at herself and thankful that she was sitting next to the window. She turned to stare out at the flashing scenery, grateful for an excuse to distract herself. It took her a moment to realize the scenery was passing by too quickly.

Bella swallowed, tightening her grip on her violin case.

The moment they arrived Bella stumbled up to her room, ignoring the sniggers behind her. She burst into her room and flung herself onto the bed, locking the door behind her. Bella immersed herself in the silky sheets and slowly felt herself lose consciousness, drifting off into sleep...

- - - - - -

_Brown and green everywhere. A flash of dirty blonde hair tied in a loose ponytail. The faint scream of her mother. Rope bound around her wrists, cutting into the skin. Bella squirmed, trying to free herself from the tight knots. _

_A faint moan from beside her. Bella didn't turn, fearful of what she might see. The blonde-haired person, darting around her and slamming a fist into the tree, sending green leaves cascading down in flurries. _

_A louder moan. Bella turned against her will, and choked back a gasp. _

_"No!"_

Edward

Orphan Girl didn't appear at lunch. Edward should have known she wouldn't _want _to go to lunch on account of the whole new student thing, but he still felt guilty. He frowned as he stomped up to his room, ignoring Esme as he walked up. He shouldn't be feeling guilty, and yet here he was, feeling guilty as sin.

Besides, how could one be as guilty as sin? It was a ridiculous phrase. Sin wasn't guilty. Not as far as Edward was concerned, anyway.

He sighed and went to his room, immediately thinking of the girl next door. Was she playing her violin? Edward bit his lip, deliberating for a moment before giving up and exiting his room, walking over to the bedroom next door. He pressed his ear to the door, listening for a sound, any sound.

All he heard was a soft breathing that filled Edward with a strange sense of foreboding. Edward frowned and pressed his ear closer to the door, hearing a moan. Suddenly frightened, he tried the doorknob. It was locked. He gritted his teeth and rattled the doorknob. He ran to his room, rummaging around his drawer for the master keys as he heard a sudden scream from inside the room. Edward found the key and sprinted back to the room.

His hands fumbled as he tried to slide the key into the lock, compeletely missing the keyhole. He stabbed frantically a few more times before sliding the key in sucessfully, opening the door and bursting in silently. He whirled to face Bella.

She looked _terrible_.

Bella writhed around in the bed, screaming. Edward locked the door behind him and flung the master key across the room, running over to Bella and pulling the covers off her, trying to desperately untangle her flailing limbs from the sheets. He roughly shook her shoulder. She didn't wake up, and Edward was deperate. He ran to the bathroom, running a towel under the tap before dashing over to Bella, the water droplets flying everywhere. He wiped her sweaty face with the towel, murmuring to her.

"Wake up, Bella, wake up. It's just a nightmare. Shh, come on. Wake up," Edward whispered, crouching next to Bella. He suddenly thought of another day, many years ago, where he had to wake Alice up from a nightmare. When things were better. When his parents didn't ignore him.

He shook the thought away. Right now he had to focus on waking Bella up. "God dammit, Bella, wake up!"

Bella shuddered, and with a gasp, jerked awake. Her eyes flew open, and she focused on Edward, still looking frantic and terrified. Then, with a loud sob, she threw herself at Edward, hugging him tightly. Edward staggered a little, unsure of what to do. He hadn't been hugged by anyone for years.

Slowly Edward lifted his arms and slipped them around Bella, rocking her in a somewhat familiar action, first awkwardly, then more comfortably as her breathing slowed.

Edward didn't understand this urge to protect Bella from whatever ghosts of her past. It was irrational, especially as Edward himself wasn't perfect. He was no knight in shining armor. He was just Edward, but for now, just Edward seemed to be just fine, and Edward was content with that.

- - - - - -

Bella

_He had russet skin, and black hair. His name was Jacob Black, and he was one of Renee's many affairs._

**A/N: **Miss Brittany Block is named after Brittany (duh) and Freya. Just saying.


	8. Au Revoir

Okay, so here's the deal. I could go all emo and shit, or I could be postive about this. I choose to take the latter path, mainly because going emo will result in horrible consequences.

I'm not sure if many of you know, but I am leaving Fanfiction. This is partly due to the fuckery going on-thank the Literate Union for that-and also because I just cannot stand the utter shit FFn is becoming.

Okay. I'm disgusting myself.

I know you probably want an update-hell, you're probably screaming at me for giving up on my stories. I _will _continue these stories. If not tomorrow, next week. If not next week, next month. I'm not going to stop writing, mostly because I'll die if that happened. Meanwhile, I'll still be on fanfiction dot net. I'll be answering to Pms, reviews and whatnot. I just won't be writing, because I don't want the morons that run this site to pull down my stories permanently.

Worst case scenario, I'll be banned. If this happens, I'm going to return with a vengeance and wreck utter havoc on the fandom, simply because I can. Many fantastic stories have been pulled because of the no-smut rule, and honestly, petitioning to the staff of fanfiction dot net isn't going to work. You need to petition to the authors for that.

You can follow me on Twitter if I'm banned, or just watch out on Twilight blogs such as the Midnight Eclipse. If I'm banned, I'll announce my return on these two platforms.

In the meantime, you can check my profile every first of the month. I'll update it regularly on where I'm writing, and you can track my movement through there. Also, do visit my profile and my last contribution to the fandom-The Last Contribution. It might make you want to gouge your eyes out, though, so be prepared.

Here's to a good year ahead.

-Dee


End file.
